When I'm Gone
by Sound Of A Crescendo
Summary: She knew it was too good to be true, but she tried anyway. Anne/Grell
1. Prologue

**Chapter:** Prologue

**Theme: **Aftermath

**Pairing:** Anne/Grell

**A/N: **I've tossed around the idea of making a series with these two for a while, and I think I've got a plot I can continue. Do enjoy.

* * *

_Everything I am  
And everything in me  
Wants to be the one  
You wanted me to be  
I'll never let you down  
Even if I could  
I'd give up everything  
If only for your good  
So hold me when I'm here  
Right me when I'm wrong  
You can hold me when I'm scared  
You won't always be there  
So love me when I'm gone_  
**-Three Doors Down**

There was a lost expression in those scarlet eyes, so clouded with both confusion and mourning that it had seemingly overwhelmed the soul with in it. So much pain that the threads that held together what life had not torn away finally unravelled. The remaining pieces slipped away and left the core of her bare emotions exposed and quite vulnerable.

Too much had happened, and for the soul of a mortal it was unfathomable. To believe that everything that could go wrong had, was just unimaginable. To wash the blood of life that would never get to exist from ones hands-- was sickening. So very and utterly horrid, that it caused that expose soul to cover itself with the only defence it had left. The anger was a vile coating, no better then the world that had scorned her-- but she was misery now. She had become what she despised, the colour red.

The colour of passion and love, bleeding so elegantly into the horrors of hate. Leaving a woman once sworn to oath of compassion to aid the ill-- was now raising her scalpel against everything she stood for. She cut away the pain that way, and it was growing steadily easier. The lies coming more natural and the kills were soon not enough.

Where she had killed, she now stood butchering. Where once her elegant fingers had done intricate details to sew up the cradles of life-- she mocked as she tore apart. Reeking the havoc that had rendered her unable to carry out her greatest desire. The laughing bundle of joy would never rest in her arms-- and it was with a sadistic glee she removed children from patients under the light-- only to follow them into the dark and permanently render them unable to mock that gift. Mock it like she did now, wasn't it?

It was a fated night when the moon reflected the blood painting the cobble around her that she found her companion. It was on the icy stones of another death that she found the man that came to stand by her side. He whispered so softly how they were akin-- but she could tell in those arms they were very much different. The reaper she knew was not here for the life's she had taken-- but was here for hers. She not ignorant at first, oh no. She was quite aware of his intentions.

Swearing on the very things he had no control to be at her side, and aid her as a knight to a queen. It had been the shattered pieces of that soul that rendered her unable to see his love for her. Unable to truly appreciate what he would do for her, what he became for her. She was truly lost in the veil of red coating her mind. Another mask was woven, and she'd wear it like she did for the man at her arm-- her own personal god, a masked savior following her shadow.

He was in many ways her doppelganger, a twin, and yet they were worlds apart. Even before the fireplace in her study, where their skin would meet a rough passion that was grinded against the smooth velvet of her sofas-- she knew he was hers and yet knew she could never truly have him. She had become what he desired most, dressed so elegantly in crimson life-- he failed to see the shattered soul with in her. Failed to see the battered pieces of a women longing to be what she had lost. Her god did not realize, she was all but human. All but mortal, and while she dreamed to be his goddess-- that's all she could do. Hope, and long for what she could never have, could never be.

Those hopes lead her to do strange things, things she had not done in a very long while. It made her remember, broke some of the dust off of the history she had tucked away. Her god breathed the most dangerous thing into the broken mortal soul. He fed it love. With that devotion, that simple light that found his eyes when she smiled at her. He damned her to realize just what she had become. For the love doused the flames of hate, and smoothed out the raging hell of anger. It shattered away her last defence, and let her open and exposed. But once all her layers were revealed, once her god saw just how flawed she was. He thought himself fooled, thought himself repulsed by her mortality. He could not comprehend that her rebirth of emotions came from the very own he harboured for her.

In the same breath that he loved her, was the same breath that he sought to hate her with. That hate was the final thing she saw, staring into the eyes of her lover, her companion-- her god. He took all the love she had grown for him, and used it to pierce through her very heart. As her body collapsed to the cold stones, eyes brimmed with tears that did not fall. Her salvation had forsaken her-- and there would be no peace for that tormented soul.

Heaven dare not take her, scorning the thought of her blood soaked hands. Hell curled in glee for her, clawing at her as she wavered in limbo between her judgment. The neutral part however was hesitant. There stood a woman who could lead the greatest armies over love, and a woman who could sooth a king's hand to peace. But yet, there was something else in her spirit; something hidden with in her memories. Blood tainted the passion, and passion tainted the blood. A thin string like connection fell between two scarlet souls, and placed horror through the neutral party. Her god had given her one gift that none of them could take away—he had given her something even density itself could not strip away.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter: **One

**Theme:** Aftermath

**Pairing: **Anne/Grell

* * *

There was something beautiful and yet hideous about ones first breath after birth. Something exciting about the fresh air that filled your previously unused lungs and stung gently with just how pure it was. Yet in the same breath one would realize that they were freed from the protective cavern that had been their growth and existence for the last few months.

The scarlet eyes that caressed over the emerald landscape was filled with a strange wonder. The musings about rebirth playing across her mind and leaving her with a strange sense of urgency. Yet, standing where she was at the peek of the summit she could not tear herself from the vision of beauty. Nothing had resembled the masterpiece before her-- it was almost, dare she think it? Heavenly.

A snort left cherry painted lips, and a clawed hand lift to brush back the length of crimson hair that was pooling well down over her shoulders-- when had her hair grown so long? Confusion pulled those scarlet eyes, and she lifted the strands of hair and studied them as they slipped through her claws to fall down around her bust. She remembered her hair short-- but could not remember when she had last cut it. But, there was so much she could not remember.

Vibrant eyes slid back to the landscape before her, and she smiled at the simplistic ease of nature. So utterly perfect compared too the havoc of human-- what was human life? The women's face screwed up slowly and she lifted a hand to press to the side of her skull. Pain throbbed dully at the base of her skull and the alluring details of her face would scrunch up into an expression of discomfort. Why did it hurt so much to try remember...

She hissed out a sigh and trained her eyes back on the landscape, allowing its tranquility to quell the ache. Why did she need to remember? It couldn't have been important if she had forgotten it all. A soft laugh passed those lips, and scarlet eyes reflected a casual ease of mirth. She wanted to get closer to that beauty.

She moved then, hopping head first off of the edge of her perch and let the folds of her skirts to trail after her. Yet, there was something off about those skirts-- something horrible different when the spines of wings stretched out suddenly and the skirts were revealed to be a very intricate of wings. Scarlet layers of smoothed leather filling the air and allowing the light to play over them. With the membranes spread out, one could notice the maroon veins sliding through them. Yet, the fingers and arms of the limbs were all a darker shade of rough skin. Small rugged scales dusting the muscle where it connected at her pelvis. The wings were defiantly built for flight, the tendons connecting to the delicate curves of her hips pulling taunt and trusting down with a heavy but simple grace. Powering her self upwards out of the gorge, the scarlet lady cleared the top of the tree line she had been admiring a few seconds ago.

The wings were clearly demonic in nature, but so many more details about her were. To the piercing gaze of her eyes, to the thick horns that protruded just above her temples and reached skyward. Her aloof attitude however was strikingly unsuspected however. The fact she was so captivated by the beauty around her was almost laughable.

Yet it was the grace she trimmed her wings with, and the tender ease she slipped through the bows of pine trees with that would distract one from the obvious fact there was no malice in her gentle eyes. A final flutter of her wings set her along the browned earth, scattered the needles and patches of moss. The scent of earth here was strongest, and she took a deep breath with obvious glee.

Sensitive ears caught softer smaller breaths, nervous ones that tainted the air with fear. She turned slowly, wings tucking along her body and thumb-claws hooking together seamlessly. Scarlet eyes fell onto the soft eyes of a doe, obviously frightened by her sudden appearance and yet it remained motionless where it stood. A crimson eyebrow was lifted, and for a moment she merely studied the beast with a curious expression.

"Hello there." she voiced, soft tones mixing with the wind and causing the deers ears to perk up. It backed up then-- only for the soft clang of chains to be heard and the beast fell still again. Scarlet eyes slid down over the soft fur to find the source of distress in the creature. Her eyes narrowed at the gruesome claws piercing into the tender flesh of the beast's hind legs.

She ventured forward slowly, and paused when the deer grew alarmed and tugged at its leg-- making the claws drive deeper into muscle. The demoness tsked softly, and watched the deers ears lift at the nose. An idea came to her then, and cherry painted lips parted with a gentle song. While she could not remember where she had heard it, nor what it meant-- it distracted the deer and seemed to place her in an almost subdued state.

The demonness moved forward then, pleased to see her distraction was working. A sigh passed over her lips and she eased herself down onto her knees with a sympathetic smile. "Hold on now." She whispered, and gingerly studied the rusting teeth on the trap. Judging the dried blood the demoness realized she had been here for sometime, and gingerly lifted a hand to stroke the beast's side as if to reassure her. A hand paused over the stomach, and scarlet eyes would widen, turning to gaze at the deer with a strange expression. The does head turned, gazing at the women kneeling beside her with a curious expression, staring into the eyes of a predator that had so quickly earned her trust. The deer canted her head then, and looked away, ears lifting as a stick snapped in the distance.

"Oi, you! What do you think you're doing!?" A gruff voice called, and the demoness turned around slowly to gaze towards the form of a man. Obviously a hunter with the rough leather and shaggy remains of pelts sewn together over his bulky form. An assortment of daggers hung from his waist, and scarlet eyes studied them with interested before sliding her eyes up to his bearded face with disinterest.

"She's injured, and pregnant." the demoness voiced, tone hard with a strange emotion building in her chest. While the scarlet lady could not identify /why/ the doe being pregnant was an important it had had certainly become a strong factor in her assessment.

"Oi, she's also my supper." The man would bark, stepping forward with a thundering stomp that made the doe shudder back with fear.

"Then, you're not eating tonight." The demoness counter, standing slowly and placing her self squarely before the doe with a narrowed gaze that set the light of her eyes alive with a fierce flame. The hunter would pause then, eyes sliding over the women before him with an almost stunned expression.

"How did a pretty little thing like you get up here anyway..." The man voiced, his sudden change of interest earning an arched eyebrow from the scarlet lady.

"I flew." The demoness commented curtly, lips drawing thin as the man busted out a deep laugh.

"Straight from heaven, eh Madam? How's about we go back to my--" He jested, stepping even closer. He missed the strange look on the women's face, but did catch the anger that rose in her when her fingers dug into the flesh of his neck. He gurgled in alarm, hands lifting to tug at the iron hard grin.

"Is that my name?" She growled, forcing the hulking man back into the aged bark of the oak behind him. The man could only struggle to breathe, eyes filled with disbelief as he gazed into those hellish eyes. "How do you know it!?" She roared, causing a flutter of wings to fill the air and a stream of birds to flee to the sky in fear. The forest went still around them, and finally the demoness caught the gurgle from his throat.

"What.... the h-hell are you?" He rasped, before finding himself landing heavily on a bed of fallen needles.

"...exactly." She breathed out, eyeing the blood staining her nails with displeasure. She approached him again, watching with a strange glee as he backed up from her. "Your intentions are sickening-- women are not made to please your every whim." She hissed out, fangs flashing and causing the man to pale even more.

Another snap was heard, and the distant voice of another man heard. "Jack, where'd you-- Ey, there you are! Hey-- what's wrong?" A smaller man would run up to the man's side, Jack, clutching his throat to stop the rivers of blood. Scarlet eyes watched them from a distance, crouching down in the bows of a large spruce. Her mind was reeling with strange flickers of the past, images of people and places she had never been-- and couldn't understand. But one thing was for certain, she knew her name now.

Madam glanced behind her watching the fleeing form of a doe limp its way off into the forest. Scarlet eyes glanced away with pride, silently wishing the female well before she hopped off into the forest. Something had drawn her here, and she would find it.

---

The afternoon light had long since died, and darkness shrouded the forest. However, the piercing eyes of a demon seen as if the path like it was mid-day. A scarlet form walked slowly, hands clasped behind her and carmine eyes studying the night like she had never seen one before. Even in the darkness there was beauty and it captivated her. So much, that when she walked straight into an invisible wall it nearly knocked her to her feet. She stumbled back, wings flaring open to catch her self as she stared dumfounded at the path before her. A claw was lifted, and she knocked softly at the air before.

Her claw met a solid wall, and echoed a soft 'thunk thunk' into the night air. "Huh..." She breathed, knocking on it twice more before she slowly started to walk sideways. the demoness would trail her finger along the wall as she walked, following its perimeter for a good five minutes before she came across a stream. She was about to turn around when she noticed that the water on the other side of the wall flickered with a strange image.

Curiosity caught her then, and she stepped into the river with out a second thought. As soon as she had both leather clad feet submerged, everything around her changed. She blinked, watching the high stone wall flicker into view and followed its height upwards until it vanished into the night into the heavy clouds. A whistle left her lips, and she trailed her eyes back down. A second look revealed small symbols over the wall and a look of interest captured her completely.

The innocence of her rebirth gave her no experience that this was obviously the realm of another alliance. She trailed her claws over the symbols--- fingers still stained with the blood of the man she had turned on earlier. An almost child like glee found her face as the symbols flickered alive with a red glow and spread upwards over the stones. How pretty! She thought, stepping back as if to get a better view. Just as she stepped back the water where she had been exploded by the poll that trusted down into the stone.

Alarm filled those scarlet eyes, and the child like innocence bleed away to displeasure as she studied the trees around her. The pole was with drawn in a flash--but she caught its location regardless of its speed. She knew that weapon-- the blue tipped blades on the end like... clippers. Ones that came at her again, this time from behind. Gathering there was more then one person around her she decided it was indeed time to move.

She jumped, landing on the pole as it grinded into the wet stone under her. She heard the teeth that grinded together, and smirked. Scarlet wings blurred around her as she dodged the first blades again, and similarly landed on them as the reached their full extent. Now standing a good ten feet in the air, she took the convenient height to vanish into the canopy of leaves.

She stepped lightly, red blending against the rough brown bark and hiding her nicely as she watched gleaming green eyes search the tree tops for her. She was stunned for a moment, staring down at the hues with a flicker of pain radiating in her chest. Her head whirled again, and she pressed her skull back into the tree with a shaky breath.

The breath seemed to be enough to identify her, and she barely dodged the three blades that shot at her from below-- great, they had a friend! She landed on the ground, wings flared out to cause the pine needles to stir and gust up in a small storm. Heads turned to look at her, and she bared fangs slowly. "Good evening, gentlemen." She breathed out, watching their eyes fill with a mild concern. Not many demons would face three reapers with such a calm and casual ease.

Something about the men before her caused a heavy tightness in her chest. The white shirts with fitting vests-- the black coats and ties. But it was the assortment of glasses perched on their noses that caused her to feel lightheaded. Similarly however, the men that gazed back at her were taken back by what they saw.

Before them was a demon-- but something was quiet different. They could tell her youthful age almost instantly-- the small horns on the sides of her head not long enough to suggest she would be much of a challenge. It was however the chain that fell from the middle of her chest and wavered with a flickering acid green glow that made them gape. "She's bound." One of them stated, glancing towards his comrades as if they just stumbled upon gold.

"We can see that John." His friend voiced.

"She's a demon though, I thought they couldn't--"

"John."

"yea?"

" Shut up."

Madam would have laughed, if she wasn't busy running away. She was a good yard away by the time the free arguing reapers glanced back to her. Alarm filled their faces, and they quickly scrambled after her with angry shouts.

Madam however had no interest in listening to their calls, and instead dug her claws into the glowing stone of the wall she had obviously triggered with her presence. With a skill she hadn't known she owned, she quickly started to scale up over the stones. Blades shot at her from below, and she jumped, waiting till they gouged into the stone with a shower of sparks. She landed on the blades, using them to push off of and resume her hazardous climb.

"Fuck! She's going to get in." John voiced, gazing upwards almost dumfounded.

"Well, why are we standing here?" The oldest inquired, looking to his friends before he trusted his clipper into the sky. "Lets go!"

Like the band of comic relief they were, the trio of 'students' hurried off towards the main gate. Apparently they hadn't been taught how to jump yet.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter: **Two

**Theme:** Aftermath

**Pairing:** Anne/Grell

* * *

_"Fuck! She's going to get in." John voiced, gazing upwards almost dumfounded._

_"Well, why are we standing here?" The oldest inquired, looking to his friends before he trusted his clipper into the sky. "Lets go!"_

_Like the band of comic relief they were, the trio of 'students' hurried off towards the main gate. Apparently they hadn't been taught how to jump yet._

Madam had finally found the top of the wall-- and was perched on one of the glowing ruins gazing down at the world beyond with a great amount of disbelief. A small town split out before her, buildings growing the closer towards the center and earning a soft whistle from her lips.

She hopped off of the parapet, wings catching the air and easing her down into the night silently. She landed on smoothed cobble stone, eyes glowing as she listened to the eerie silence around her. The night was motionless in this small enclosure hidden from the eyes of mortals. Like a paradise of the privileged taunting the unfortunate with its simplistic and yet deadly existence. Wings would slowly pull up against her sides, and thumb-claws hooked together to once again form the skirts of her dress. Her heels clicked softly as she ventured deeper into the town.

There was a strange spell over her then, the desire to follow the pull at her chest stronger now then it had been all day. The fact she had found a hidden city in the middle of a forest and that 'guards' had tried to stop her entry having left her mind completely. It was close now she realized, glancing briefly to the couple entwined in the shadow of a large fountain. A double set of acid eyes glanced towards her, and she greeted them with a solid nod of her head—her scarlet eyes burning in the night with a glow that left the couple speechless.

Madam ventured onward, following that desire that lead her with a decided faith in the pain that ached in the center of her chest. She had no recollection of when she had first felt that strange sense of longing to move. Almost like a compass her instincts seemed to be lead by something invisible, or something she couldn't see. Unaware of the bond that strung a chain of blood between her soul and the soul of another—had she a memory of it everything would have fallen into place much faster.

Alas it seemed she still moved too slowly, for the breath would be knocked out of her next. Blackness ebbing the besides of her vision and causing her to sway on her feet under the heavy blow. For a moment she was convinced someone had snuck up behind her and crashed someone over her head—but such was not so. She was doubled over for a moment, clutching her chest and trying fruitlessly to breath when she realized the pain was not her own. She glanced upwards then, settling her piercing eyes onto a growing crowed in the distance with confusion.

Piercing eyes latched onto the form of a man, scarlet hair to match her own falling behind him as his frame crumbled to the ground—blood staining the air from the gushing wound along his chest. Confusion would bleed into a sudden feeling of despair before it swirled with anger and fueled into rage. A spark of violence blossomed into the crimson demoness and her eyes were all but red slits in the sea of white.

Fangs were flashed as rage numbed the pain aching in the lower side of her chest. Madam herself was not aware of her own reasons for growing so utterly pissed off, but knew every instinct her body—demon and women alike pointed towards the man seconds from receiving his death blow.

If hell hath known no furry like a woman scorned--- they had known Madam well. With the edges of her wings falling behind her, the demoness would sprint forward with a gust of energy that lightly dinted the ground where she had been standing. Air captured under her wings then as she pounced up the side of one of the buildings. With the grace of a hell-cat, claws left gouges in the stones and sent peoples falling to the ground. One heel balanced on a window sill with just enough leverage to power her over the side of the parapet and claws met the singles to tear into the dried tar underneath.

Successfully lifting her self above the crowd, she braced one hand on the roof and paused long enough flare those heavy wings open. Heels tore into the roof as she pushed off, claws burning with venom as her rage laid a much more powerful form under the skin. The darkness in her soul gleefully awaiting the carnage to come as justice for her fallen mate.

Cool metal would press to her blackened fingers, and the tips that had merged into claws would closed automatically around the handle. Scarlet eyes didn't need to look to see just what had appeared to her—the weapon seeming all to willing to defend its master in the hands of his mistress. However, the ability of a demon to summon a scythe to her would have been frightening—thus the cry of horror that took over the crowed when the jagged teeth of the saw emerged through the other side of the attacker's chest.

Madam held little mercy for her morel less victory over the reaper, watching with disinterest as he soul shredded apart under the scythes gift. She held not the right powers nor skills to observe his life passing, but nor did she desire to. Her only willing wish for him to be removed, and with this accomplished she heaved back on the saw and let his corpse collapse to a swirling mist. Blood had spilled into the air, droplets soaking down the front of her dress. Cherry painted lips curled as she greeted the wide eyes of the man she had saved and tilted her head slowly to lick her tongue along the droplets fallen against her cheek.

"Are… you where I belong?" She inquired those scarlet eyes hopeful and yet reflecting the tired soul housed in the form of a demon. It was the look of remorse that filled his face that caused her hopeful expression to crumble away to a cold façade. Inward, she searched to find that leading ache—only to find it was now gone. She stared at him like a lost kitten until a grin finally tugged over his lips and he tried to laugh. A grimace of pain over took his mirth, and the demoness seemed to recall the fact the reaper before her had fallen previous to her attack.

She moved forward then, laying the faithful saw before its owner—yet, how did she know the man owned the saw? Such things she did not question, much like how her delicate fingers knew exactly what to look for as they studied the gouges deep into his flesh. Life as a doctor forgotten, but the skills and abilities she had learned applying themselves from sheer repetitive practice. She tore off his jacket with piercing claws, and packed it against the wound, holding the pressure point feeding the area with blood for a moment as she thought. He distracted her mental check list of things she would need when his fingers lifted to cup the side of her face. The touch soothed something in her, seeming to relax the anxious portion of her soul and causing her to lift scarlet eyes from her tending of his wound.

"Yes Anne… you belong with me." The reaper whispered, watching those scarlet eyes soften and a much tender smile pull the painted lips he remembered so well. It was far too surreal, caressing his fingers along her jaw line and feeling the thunder of a pulse lie just along her carotid artery. The throb of the wound she had been fussing over forgotten as he started to accept the fact—this women just kept coming back for more. He tightened his grip to her chin then, watching her eyes widen slightly before he lost sight of them. He captured her lips against his own, careless to the commotion rising in the crowd at his bold action. He felt her hesitation—but realized it only came from the fact she could not remember everything. He was disappointed by this, but yet regardless of her death induced amnesia she had found her way to him. He wondered more if it was on the grace of fate she had came in time—or the fact life just seemed to love to fuck with them.

He slipped his tongue past her lips, feeling her melt into his affection. Her willingness only fueled him more; his fingers sliding back to grip the base of her skull. Madam seemed not to be bothered as he pulled her closer, and tilted her head just enough to help deepen the kiss. The reunion was short however, and Madam would be the first to pull back. Head tilting to nuzzle her nose into his cheek and take a breath in of his scent with delight. "Grell…" She whispered out, earning a beaming grin across the fanged teeth of the reaper as she recognized him. Maybe, she wouldn't remember he had killed her—he was growing rather fond of the changes in his scarlet mistress.

"Anne…" He murmured in response, manicured fingers brushing over her hair and just noticing now their length. "… You need a hair cut." He commented seriously, and felt her breath shudder against his cheek as she snorted. His fingers trailed down to gingerly rest to the small of her back, and he seemed content for the moment—regardless of the fact the cloth she had packed against his stomach was already soaked through with his blood. "…and we need to get out of here." He added, feeling instantly the change in her as he reminded her about the danger.

Anne's head lifted, scarlet eyes running over the crowd—that had all but doubled since she had last looked— defiantly impossible for her breakthrough their ranks. She swallowed, pulling back enough to look to Grell for a suggestion. The reaper seemed to be ahead of her(for once) and inclined his head towards his right. Following his indication, she shifted her gaze to her left, and blinked at the approaching form of a silver haired man. He was familiar, and yet not enough to jar her memory like Grell had. She arched a slender eyebrow, fingers unconsciously tightening into the blood-soaked shirt of her partner.

"My, my, Madam. You certainly know how to make a come back." The black robed man would comment, coming to stand a few feet from the duet. "Shame, George was a good man- but I suppose its his own fault for going after the husband of a demon." He commented, grinning slightly as he regarded the scene before him. The undertaker was secretly pleased for Madam's timing; he had not been able to take another day of William's worry over the red haired reaper.

"Now, they're expecting me to defeat you." The mortician continued, eyes shadowed behind those heavy bangs—yet, Madam could feel them piercing into her own. "But, instead I want you to surrender. I can work your case better with the elders if you are complaint to this…" He continued, lifting a lengthy nailed hand to stroke his chin in thought. "…after all, you destroyed him because your felt your husbands life was threatened. It's a matter of self defense." His voice was soft, almost whispered as if he desired to keep this knowledge a secret with the two.

Anne considered the purposed reason with a nod of her head—while it had not been a conscious idea to protect Grell when she hadn't even recognized him, she had done it because he was being threatened. Yet—the man's referral to Grell as her 'husband' earned a small amount of colour to her cheeks. Lacking the knowledge that their bond was indeed such a declaration with many vows resembling those traditional human marriages. She glanced to Grell then, noting the shade of his pallor and the fact he needed medical attention ASAP. "I surrender, and shall remain compliant to your terms so long as my husband retrieves immediate medical services."

The undertaker would nod his head at this, and clasped his hands together with a wide grin. "Excellent! Follow me then." He announced, turning sharply on his heel with a sideways sway and made his way back towards the crowd. Anne swallowed, wondering just what she had gotten herself into. Yet something in her gut told her to trust the eerie man. With delicate fingers wrapping around Grell she lifted him gracefully—to his own argument that he could walk—and ventured after the Undertaker. Holding him close to her in a bridal style she avoided glancing up to the crowd. More then intelligent enough to realize the fact she should look forlorn about her 'surrender'.

Regardless of her subdued expression, a commotion still erupted when the Undertaker reached the circle of people. "She accepted a contract to remain complaint to term's we discussed." The undertaker voiced simply, watching skeptical eyes travel to the crimson duet. A few protests emerged, but the hand Undertaker would lift caused them to die mid-sentence. Sometimes being a walking legend carried a lot of perks. "No, I will not disclose the terms to the public. The elders will have their decision over her, not you." His voice was sharp, surprisingly holding an air of authority against the people. But, they accepted his dormant behavior, deciding that the retired reaper would not place them in danger.

* * *

**A/N:** If you mind Madam a little OCC, its because she can't remember much of her past. She's running on instincts. There will be more clarifications in the next chapter. Stay tuned!


End file.
